


How To Meet-Cute Your Boyfriend 101

by verbaeghe



Series: Lightning - IN SPACE!! [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Fluff and Angst, IN SPACE!, M/M, Meet-Cute, Prequel, Tampa Bay Lightning, gratuitous cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15863742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbaeghe/pseuds/verbaeghe
Summary: But winning him over? That is definitely a 201 class.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkone/gifts).
  * Inspired by [How to Rescue Your Boyfriend 101](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14261901) by [darkone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkone/pseuds/darkone). 



Slater is feeling sort of annoyed when he walks into his hand-to-hand combat class. He thought that he could get out of it, required or not, because he just doesn’t see why it’s a requirement for _him_. They’ve been telling him that he’s going to be a pilot since he was like twelve, and honestly, how much fist fighting is he going to be doing from a cockpit in space?

He stops just inside the doorway and takes a look around. There’s still plenty of seats open, so he can be choosy about where he sits. He spots a guy who is broad and super hot, and suddenly his annoyance is an afterthought. He notices that every seat around the newly-dubbed-in-his-head Hot Guy is still open. Slater decides that he should solve the issue, picking the desk closest to him and sliding into it.

Slater gets a confused look, but Hot Guy doesn’t say anything.

The instructor, who is _the_ Captain Stamkos of the _SSE Bolt --_ what is he doing teaching a class and how did Slater not hear about that? -- calls them to order and everyone else fills in the seats around him and Hot Guy.

“Hey, everyone,” Captain Stamkos starts, “I’m Captain Stam--” He cuts off, chuckles to himself, shakes his head. “I mean, I’m Mr. Stamkos, and I’m teaching hand-to-hand combat this term.”

He goes on, talking about the usual boring start of term stuff that Slater stopped listening to during the second class of his first day of high school, and so Slater is busy doodling star systems when everyone around him starts moving. He blinks and looks up to see the class pairing off.

“Pick carefully, you and your partner will be graded together all term!” Captain Stamkos easily speaks over the noise of everyone shuffling about.

He panics, thinking that someone will have already snagged Hot Guy, but he’s still sitting there with a sour look on his hot, scruffy face. Slater can pair with him. Yes!

Slater ignores the unholy screeching racket that his desk makes as he scoots closer to Hot Guy. “Hey, I’m Slater, wanna work together this term?” Hot Guy just sort of grunts at him. “Is that a yes? Or a no?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asks. Slater takes a quick glance around the room.

“It does not appear so, no.”

Hot Guy just sighs and sinks into his seat in defeat.

Slater has done more with less. No problem.

“So, if we’re going to be working together, I’ll need to know your name.”

“Why?”

“I just said-” Slater huffs, scrunches his nose. “The bit about working together? All term? Using your name is better than me calling you That Guy Who Sits Next To Me?”

Slater is actually quite pleased with himself that he didn't say 'Hot Guy'.

He rolls his eyes, apparently not quite as impressed. “Braydon.”

“Braydon, huh?” Slater looks him over and decides that he does seem like a Braydon. He also decides that he doesn’t know any twenty-year-olds with that much facial hair. “Hey, are you as old as you look?”

Slater regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. He should think these things through occasionally.

“Dunno. Are you as young as you look?”

Slater plasters his smile back on, cocks his head coyly. He hopes. “Depends on how young I look.”

“Oh, I dunno, fifteen?”

“Hah. Hilarious. No. I was sixteen when I started though.” Slater is proud of what he’s accomplished, and he doesn’t care what anyone says about him being a show-boater or that he celebrates too much when he runs a flawless simulation. He’s eighteen and top of the graduating class, whether anyone likes it or not.

But he digresses.

“So, close enough,” Braydon says with a shrug.

“I am an adult, thank you.”

“Maybe you’ll act like one at some point?”

“Have I done anything childish? Let me answer that for you, no I haven’t.” Braydon snorts, shakes his head. “What?”

“You fidget constantly. Also, you didn’t listen to the teacher, who is a _fleet captain_ , and you were doodling all through the start of class.”

“So, you were paying attention to me is what you’re saying?” Slater wants to defend his star system doodles because they are important to what he’s going to do, but he's pretty sure Braydon wouldn’t care.

“You're sitting right next to me? The whole point of this class is to notice things.”

It's Slater's turn to snort. “No, the point of this class is ‘how to beat someone up without getting your own ass beat’. It’s hardly necessary.” Braydon frowns. “What?”

“That’s our time for today!” Captain Stamkos says from the front. “Class dismissed, see you Wednesday.”

Braydon grabs his bag and leaves without a word; Slater snatches his stuff and jogs to catch up to him.

“Hey, you didn’t say bye.”

“Why would I?”

“We were working together? We’re partners? Pick one.”

“You were complaining about combat, which is half of where I come from. How’s that for a reason?”

“You’re Oyterian?” Slater stops short, Braydon keeps going. “I guess that makes sense with the size and all.”

“I’m _half_ ,” Braydon says when Slater shuffles back up next to him.

“Wow, did anyone ever tell you that being half-Oyterian is super cool?” Slater asks, blinking up at him.

“No, but someone just told me that it isn’t necessary.”

“I didn’t mean that! I meant that combat isn’t for _me_ ,” Slater tries to explain.

One day he is going to avoid putting his foot in his mouth when talking to someone, but today is definitely not that day.

“I guess that might be the case, what with you being full human and all.” He isn’t smiling or anything, but it seems like it might be a joke, and he’s relaxing a bit for the first time since Slater introduced himself, and isn’t that a relief?

“So, do you beat people up a lot then?” Slater asks, going for conversational. 

“Did anyone ever tell you that you're annoying?” Braydon snaps.

“All the time!” Slater beams. “I grow on you though!”

”Like a fungus?“ Braydon deadpans.

“Sort of, but more charming.” Slater goes for his thousand-watt smile, the one that wins people over every time, and he can totally tell when it works on Braydon too, because he sort of deflates. In a good way.

“That’s debatable,” he says, but the crankiness is gone from his voice.

Slater will totally take that as his in.

//

“Holy shit,” Slater starts, dropping into his seat. “You're Braydon _Coburn_ ; your mom is a princess from Oytera who fell in love with a human bodyguard assigned to her while on a diplomatic mission! And not only that, but you’re the top tactical student in the school, only two spots behind me for top of the whole class!” He doesn’t mean to word vomit it all out like that, but he’s just so excited that he can’t help it.

“Yeah, I know who I am,” Braydon replies. He sounds a little bored, but Slater isn’t even close to done.

“You got wait-listed for two years.” Slater frowns. He can’t imagine why they would wait-list an actual prince. Maybe he doesn’t count as one because of the scandal of it all. Slater’s still trying to process it, honestly. “Which is shitty because you're so good at all of this.” Braydon looks touched. Well, that’s a strong word. He looks a smidgen less annoyed than usual. Slater adds, “But at least it means you got to meet me, so wins all around?”

He means it as a joke to make light of the whole deal about being wait-listed _twice_ when he’s so damn qualified, but Braydon doesn’t take it like that, if his face is anything to go by.

“Oh, yeah, lucky me. Getting to meet the best pilot ever. Having him sit right next to me, grace me with being his sparring partner, even.” Braydon shakes his head, shifting his eyes back to the front of the room.

“You know who I am?” Slater asks, choosing to ignore the snark of the comment (something he’s perfected over the years). It hadn’t seemed like Braydon had any idea who Slater was the other d--

“Why wouldn’t I know who’s top of the class?” Braydon asks. He sets his chin into his hand, still looking forward even though Captain Stamkos hasn’t shown up yet. “Just because you don’t look who is behind you doesn’t mean others aren’t looking ahead.”

Slater never thought of it that way. He sags down into his chair. “Oh.”

Braydon sighs through his nose and opens his mouth...and then Captain Stamkos walks in and calls them to order.

“Don’t worry,” Slater leans over and whispers, “You’ll feel loads less annoyed after you knock me on my ass a couple of times.”

Braydon tries to hide it, but Slater totally hears the tiny snort of laughter that escapes him.

//

The next four weeks feel like one of those montage scenes from a movie, but, instead of something awesome like getting to try on a bunch of great outfits, he’s being thrown down to the mat. Over. And over.

Oh, and here he is again on his back with Braydon dropping down to pin him. Slater puts on a smirk and hopes he doesn’t sound too out of breath when he says, “I’m starting to think that you just like having me under you.” He rounds it out to a grin. “Or maybe you’re looking for a little bit of snuggle time?”

“I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously,” Braydon says, rolling his eyes.

“I am taking this plenty seriously!” Slater objects. “You’re like twice my size _and_ a born fighter!”

“You picked me.”

“I know I did! I thought that it would help me learn something that I’m not naturally good at, but the only thing I’ve learned so far is how hard the ground under this mat is.”

“You really aren’t very good at this,” Braydon agrees.

“Shut up, I know,” Slater replies through laughter, giving Braydon a play shove on the arm.

“Come on, let’s get back to work,” Braydon stands, easily pulling Slater up with him.

Slater thinks that they’ve definitely hit a milestone in their relationship, because now Braydon is instructing him on what he’s done wrong and explaining what he could do better after he gets pinned instead of just mocking him.

He might be learning something after all.

//

Slater doesn’t have many nights off where he doesn’t have to study or work on ridiculous projects such as ‘plot a course through this supposedly unplottable asteroid belt’, but tonight is actually one such night. His dorm mate and designated bff, Vladdy, isn’t doing anything either, so they’re going to go out to the diner at the edge of campus.

The fact that it’s still on campus sucks, but everything around him is either campus or the endless void of space, so he’ll take what he can get.

He takes what he thinks will be one last glance in his mirror, until he sees that his curls resemble forest underbrush from back home more than actual human hair. He sighs, turning on the water so he can wet them down. Again.

“You know,” Vladdy leans in, sticking his perfect blonde floof into Slater’s bathroom where it isn’t welcome. “You could tame your hair if you just used some gel.”

“I don’t like crunchy hair,” Slater whines, letting his body sag like the drama queen that he is.

“Well, it looks fine, then. Come on!” Vladdy reaches out and tugs at Slater’s arm.

“What’s the rush?” Slater asks, allowing himself to be pulled towards the front door.

“Nikita is waiting for me.”

Of course he has someone waiting.

 

 

 

Vladdy hardly has time to run off and find his Nikita person before Slater spots Braydon. He’s a couple of tables away, sitting alone. Slater can’t really have that, so he makes his way over.

He leans on the table when he arrives, throwing on a half-smile as he asks, “Do you have any friends besides me?”

Braydon looks at him with raised eyebrows. “Oh, are we friends?”

“We hang out in every class, so of course we are.” Slater throws his head playfully and tries not to grimace when he swears he can feel his hair getting bigger.

“I thought that we’re partners.”

“We could be that too.” Slater wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. He knows he looks ridiculous, but it’s part of his charm, okay?

Someone walks up and nudges by Slater without a word, which, rude. He looks over as the guy places down a drink for Braydon and slides into the booth. He has the dark hair and awkward, uneven features of one of the species that they covered back on his first term. The name of the planet he’s from is escaping Slater at the moment. It isn’t one of the Big Five, which includes Earth and Oytera.

It’s...it’s...the guy turns his head and now Slater remembers something about a heightened sense of smell, but he still can’t come up with the planet name.

“Thanks, Tony.” Braydon smiles at, well, Tony. It’s the first real smile Slater’s seen from him, and welp. That’s that.

“Oh. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have. Shit. Just. Sorry.” Slater scurries back over to his table and Vladdy, who has returned but is busy, wrapped up in some hairy guy who must be Nikita. They don’t pay him any mind at all while he does not start sulking.

He isn’t. Shut up.

Maybe a little.

He’s leaving. No one will miss him anyway.

//

Slater is still decidedly not sulking on Monday.

He’s quiet through the whole class, not even saying anything when they’re told to spend the rest of class sparring. He stands up, walks over to the mats, and waits for Braydon to line up across from him.

Slater manages to dodge a couple of attacks before getting pinned. He’s a little out of breath but Braydon doesn’t seem to be bothered at all.

He never does, though.

“Are you okay?” Braydon asks quietly.

“Yeah, I'm. Whatever, let’s go.” He counters a couple of Braydon’s punches, then surprises himself when he actually gets the upper hand on Braydon, sweeping his legs out from under him and knocking him down.

The sound his body makes hitting the plastic padding is actually sort of soothing. Maybe that’s why Braydon likes doing it to him so much. Slater drops down to pin him officially.

“We might make you competent yet.” Braydon looks almost happy from his place down on the mat.

“Yeah, imagine that,” Slater doesn’t put any bite into his words, sitting back and reaching for his water. He offers a hand to Braydon, pulls him into a seated position, and offers him a small smile. “Who knew the guy at the top of the class might be able to do something right eventually?”

McDonagh interrupts them, butting right into their conversation, “Hey, it isn’t that he doesn’t think you can do it. It’s that you never shut your stupid mouth.”

“What?” Slater blinks over at him; he scowls.

“You’re always talking. And you care too much about your sims. It’s annoying. _You’re_ annoying. He can’t believe that you can do anything with any sort of humility.”

“Man, shut the fuck up, McDonagh. No one asked you,” Braydon says. Slater is honestly surprised.

“I’m just telling the truth,” he shrugs dismissively and turns back to his partner, Miller.

Braydon slides closer to Slater and leans in so that their hair is almost touching. “Hey, don’t listen to him. He’s just being a dick.”

Slater knows that he comes off as a little arrogant and full of himself, and he _knows_ that he uses jokes and said arrogance to cover up his nerves, but what else is he supposed to do? The whole program is eat or be eaten for everyone, and he’d started it at sixteen, which has only happened one other time in the whole history of the fleet.

Slater presses his lips together so they don’t curl into a frown. “Let’s just get back to work,” He says, pushing himself to his feet.

//

Slater’s long break between classes on Tuesday finds him staring blankly at the dregs of his iced coffee. He startles when a fresh cup slides into view, looking up to see Braydon standing there. Slater would almost say that he looks sort of sheepish.

If he didn’t think that was just his imagination running wild, that is.

“Two percent and caramel syrup, no sugar, right?” He sets it down next to Slater’s empty one.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” Slater reaches for his wallet, but Braydon raises a hand, stopping him. “How’d you know my drink?” He grabs the cup instead.

“I’ve stood in line behind you a time or two.”

“Oh.” Slater notices the bottle of chocolate milk in Braydon’s hand, raises an eyebrow at it. “Not a coffee drinker?”

“Nah, it’d be pointless. Caffeine doesn’t do anything for Oyterians.” Braydon smirks. “The human half of me is very disappointed.”

“Well, it isn’t missing much,” Slater replies before taking a sip. Braydon is chewing his lip and seems a little anxious. Nervous? Neither seems particularly likely, but Slater figures he should ask anyway. “Is something bothering you?”

“No, I was just. Um, I was wondering if it’s been hard for you, doing all of this so young.”

Slater shrugs. “They started telling me that I’d be here at sixteen since I was twelve. I had time to prepare.”

“Twelve?” Braydon looks so cute with surprise written all over his stupid handsome face. He even has raised eyebrows included, lord help Slater.

“Yeah, I guess those sim numbers I care too much about mean something after all, huh?” Slater shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Tell me about you? Was it hard getting wait-listed twice?”

“Of course it was, but it was worth the wait.” He rests his elbows on the table. “I got to meet you, right?”

A small laugh is startled out of Slater. “Yeah, lucky you,” he says quietly, peeling at the corner of the sticker on his cup. It reads: for BRADEN.

“Oh.” Slater glances up to see Braydon frowning at the clock on the wall. “My next class is in ten, so I have to go.” He stands. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He starts to leave, pauses, turns back. “By the way, Tony is my dorm mate, not my...anything else.”

“Really?” Slater perks up in a way that has nothing to do with coffee, and he realizes a moment later that he's going to need more than a lord to help him, because Braydon's face blooms into this amazing smile. That is directed at _him_.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“Tomorrow,” Slater agrees, nodding.

Braydon shoots him this adorably awkward little wave before heading off.

//

Slater walks out onto the quad the following Sunday afternoon, pausing to scope out a spot for himself. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that it isn’t real, that the grass and the trees and the sun shining down are all just an illusion. It just slips his mind that they’re floating in the middle of space on a station.

Holodecks are the best invention. After ships.

Slater wanders until he finds a bit of open green that's big enough to set up in. He places his portable projector down and activates it, spending a few minutes watching the hologram go through the stance cycles before he starts practicing alongside it.

“Who would have thought that you actually practice?” Braydon asks from behind him. Slater smiles before schooling himself and turning around.

“Are you following me around the school?” he asks, cocking his head playfully. It's his go-to, okay? Shush.

“There’s only so many places to go. I’m bound to run into you sometimes,” Braydon replies.

“Well, I guess when you put it like that.” Slater picks up a towel, dabs at his temple while he walks the few steps over to where Braydon is standing, holding a book. “I was just working on tomorrow’s lesson.”

“Need some help?”

“Don’t I always?” Slater’s eyes drop to the book. “But it looks like you’re on the way somewhere.”

“I was bored, so I was coming out here to read.” He wiggles the book. “But you know me, always up for combat.”

“That you are,” Slater smirks, turning back to shut off the projector.

“You better hope the grass is softer than it looks,” Braydon says, tossing his book down by Slater’s stuff.

“Believe me, I do,” Slater replies with a small laugh. He turns back, takes the stance that he sees Braydon use most.

“Oh, you _have_ been practicing,” Braydon says with a low whistle.

“Well, it just so happens that I’ve learned from the best.” He lifts his hands just a bit, making the universal sign for ‘bring it’. “Come on, then.” Braydon grins at him, shrugging off his jacket and advancing on Slater.

He can’t help the way that he gets caught in how Braydon moves. It's so careful. No, controlled. Like he’s stalking prey, and Slater--

“Oof.” Slater is on his back.

“Maybe you haven’t been practicing enough after all,” Braydon says, holding a hand out to Slater.

“I was just distracted,” Slater replies, accepting the hand.

“By what?” Braydon looks over his shoulder, like he’s actually trying to find something that could be distracting Slater. Well, he _is_ searching pretty hard, so maybe he is.

Jesus.

“Do you seriously not know?” Slater asks, dropping his fight stance.

“Should I?” Braydon asks, turning back.

“You. Really.” Slater shakes his head. “Never mind.” He goes on the offensive. It catches Braydon off guard, and maybe that’s why Slater takes him down so quickly, but he doesn’t even care. “Look at that, we’re tied.” He offers Braydon a hand.

Braydon, who is apparently a little shit _too_ , pulls Slater down to the ground instead of accepting help up. “Oh, oops. Stronger than I thought, I guess.”

“You’re an asshole,” Slater the heap laughs.

“Takes one.”

“Yeah, it does.” Slater agrees. They smile at one another for a couple of heartbeats, and then Braydon seems to remember himself.

“Okay, back to work.”

They’re more serious after that, trading jabs and points almost evenly. It’s a surprise to Slater, but he doesn’t think Braydon is going easy on him. He’s trying to get the upper hand early every round, which is his usual tactic, and there’s a bead of sweat on his brow that means that he’s working really hard, and--

“Ow, shit,” Slater is on his back again; this time Braydon lands on top of him.

Slater’s suddenly feeling like he’s caught up in one of his best dreams. They’re chest to chest, and Braydon’s stubble, softer than he ever imagined, is rubbing up against Slater’s jaw while hot breath raises goosebumps along the line of his neck. Strong shoulders and arms are so close that Slater could reach out and touch them if he could only find the nerve.

Instead, Slater quietly asks, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Sorry, I.” Braydon pushes up to his elbows and their eyes lock. “Um, I didn’t.”

“It’s okay, I know,” Slater says softly. His eyes catch on the bead of sweat again, so he uses his thumb to gently brush it away. Braydon is studying him intently when he shifts his attention back. “What?”

“It’s just. You’re so…” He trails off, brings a hand up to Slater’s face. His fingers are hard and calloused, but his touch is so fucking light and gentle that Slater _knows_ that he could spend the rest of his days under those hands and never get tired of them.

Braydon pulls away abruptly, sitting up and grabbing his jacket.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Slater scrambles after him. He freezes at Slater’s touch, looks back.

“We aren’t doing this, Slater,” Braydon says quietly.

“Is it my…” Slater runs down his list of Known Flaws in his head. “My me?” Slater shakes his head. “That’s all an act. I told you, I have to--”

“No, no. Slater. Stop. It’s not that.” Braydon sighs. “There’s only three weeks of this-” He gestures widely at everything around them. “-left, and then where we be?” Slater opens his mouth, but Braydon continues, “You’ll be off flying in combat missions somewhere while I’m on the other side of the universe being some captain’s tactical officer.”

“I’ll be on a ship, same as you,” Slater edges closer to Braydon. “What if we get assigned to work on the same one?”

“We probably won’t.”

“But we _could_ ,” Slater insists. “And even if we don’t, you don’t think that we could make it work? We could talk every day and there’d always be leave, and--”

“Slater.”

God, his name sounds so good coming out of Braydon’s mouth.

“Long distance relationships pretty much never work, and ones that just started three weeks prior definitely don't.

“But I--”

“I don’t want a relationship with anyone, especially not you,” Braydon snaps, yanking his arm away.

Slater was going to say that he’s worth it, that yes, he’s young, but he knows this thing between them is real and they _can_ make it work. That he wants Braydon so much it feels like something is missing when they aren’t together.

But all the romantic notions in the universe don’t mean a thing if he isn’t wanted back.

“Oh, right,” Slater says quietly, sitting back on the grass. “Sorry I pushed.”

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” Braydon says.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Slater doesn’t look up, instead he studies the fake grass he’s twirling his fingers in.

He doesn’t want to watch Braydon leave.

//

Slater pauses outside the door to class. He isn’t totally prepared to face Braydon yet, but he probably never will be, so he may as well get it over. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath through his nose, letting it out slowly before he attempts to shake the tension from his body and steps inside.

He walks straight up to Braydon’s desk, not even waiting to be addressed before he asks, “Should I ask for a new partner?”

“Nah, I don’t want to take the grade cut,” Braydon smiles at him, all easy like it’s nothing at all. Like Slater didn't spend months trying to coax it out of him. “I’m up to second in the class and still have a chance for first.”

“Okay, sure, no problem,” Slater replies. He places Braydon’s book down on his desk. “You forgot your book yesterday.”

“Oh, thanks,” he replies, not even looking at Slater anymore, and Jesus, what did Slater do to deserve this?

“No problem,” he repeats like an idiot before dropping into his desk.

He doodles through the instructional part of class. He isn’t really listening, because what more could he need to learn about getting beat up? Or avoiding getting beat up. Whichever. And then they’re heading to the mats to spar again, which, it’s fine.

Slater puts just enough effort into it so that he doesn’t end up on his back every time, but he definitely doesn’t wait for Braydon to pin him, and he doesn’t do any pinning himself.

They break when there’s a couple of minutes left of class. Slater heads back to his desk and is gathering his belongings when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns and looks up into Braydon’s face, which is a bit of a surprise.

“Did you get your ship assignment yet?”

“No,” Slater shakes his head. “I guess you did?”

“Yeah.” He gestures towards Captain Stamkos with his head. “I’m on the _Bolt._ ”

“That’s great, you really deserve it!” Slater says, and he means it. The _Bolt_ is the best ship in the fleet and Braydon will be a really good fit. Captain Stamkos dismisses the class. “I have somewhere to be, but congratulations!” Slater offers him a small smile before heading for the door.

 

 

 

Slater stops at his mailbox on his way up to his dorm. He’s trying not to expect that his assignment will be there, but he is hoping it will be.

And he isn’t disappointed when he pulls out the most official looking letter-sized envelope he’s ever seen. His hands are not shaking when he flips the tab up and pulls out the small packet inside.

He skips past the part with his name and address, wanting to get right to the important part:

 

_Dear Mr. Koekkoek,_

_We are pleased to inform you of your commission to the_ SSE Bolt _. You will be reporting directly to Captain Steven Stamkos on_

 

It goes on from there, but honestly Slater doesn’t really care about the rest of it at the moment, because he is going to be working on the best ship in the galaxy too, and he can’t wait to tell Braydon, who--

Oh, right. Braydon, who doesn’t want him and was probably asking in the hope that he was assigned somewhere else.

Well, it’s a pretty big ship, so maybe that won’t be a problem? Slater will _make it_ not be a problem.

And anyway, Slater can go up and tell Vladdy, who will probably be pretty excited for him. Slater sees the tie on their door and stops with a sigh. Well, he would be, if Slater wasn’t sexiled again.

Slater decides to go and get a coffee to celebrate by himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Being a combat pilot during a time of peace is boring, it turns out. Don’t get him wrong! He’s glad that there isn’t galactic civil war tearing any of the universe apart, but, like, there isn’t much for him to do.

He’s cleaned a lot, which is boring. And he’s gotten to be on the bridge a few hours here and there, which is not boring at all. Especially that time that Captain Stamkos let him fly the whole ship for two hours. 

Slater has seen Braydon three times. Once at orientation, once in the mess hall, and there was the time when they almost passed one another in the corridors. It’d been easy to avoid being seen the first two times; Slater can quietly blend into large groups, no matter what any of his peers at the academy believed.

The corridor had been tricky, and he thought he was going to be noticed for sure. He’d gotten lucky when someone from behind Braydon called out to him and Slater had been able to duck down a hall when Braydon turned away.

He’d gotten lost in unfamiliar corridors for three hours, and reprimanded for being late to his post, but he didn’t have to have any awkward talks.

So it all worked out for the best.

Anyway, all of that is getting away from the point, which is: Slater is bored.

And that's why he volunteers the instant ‘Don’t Call Me Commander Stralman Call Me Stralsy’ comes into the hangar with an order for a pilot to fly a crew down to the planet they’re orbiting for what he says is a run-of-the-mill diplomatic meeting.

“Are you sure about this?” Stralsy asks. “You’d have to be part of the actual away team.”

“That is better than cleaning the hangar from top to bottom again,” Slater says, holding out his hand for the paperwork.

“Be ready to leave in three hours.” He hands Slater the packet. “Wear your best uniform and make sure you bring some civvies just in case.”

“Right, got it. Thanks,” Slater is distracted, already thinking about his uniform and which clothes to bring. He almost doesn’t remember to address Stralsy when he’s dismissed, and he sure doesn’t take the time to read over the manifest.

Whoops. 

// 

“Hi, guys, I’m Slater, and I’ll be your--” Slater stops short when Braydon appears at the top of the ramp and steps into the shuttle.

“Pilot, I guess?” Slater blinks his attention away from Braydon, who is closing the ramp, and over to the guy who spoke. He has dark hair, the most sticky-outy ears Slater has ever seen, and shit-eating smirk. “I’m Alex. The diplomat. And this is Alexey, Otto, and Braydon.” He points to each of them in turn before offering Slater his hand.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, I’ll be flying you guys down.” Slater takes the offered hand. He turns to the other three. “It’s nice to meet you guys. Buckle up and I’ll get this baby ready.”

Slater has hardly cleared the hangar doors when Alex walks into the cockpit. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, nodding at the empty co-pilot seat.

“Uh, you can if you want,” Slater says, flipping a few switches to let autopilot take over.

“What’s up between you and the big guy?”

“I thought you’re supposed to be a diplomat,” Slater replies with a snort.

“Yeah, well, I’m not really going for diplomatic at the moment.” Alex shrugs.

“We had a class together, I was surprised to see we got assigned to the same ship, that’s all,” Slater lies, because he isn’t telling this person he doesn’t know about his unrequited feelings.

“I’m not sure you're telling the truth here,” Alex leans back in the chair and has the audacity to _kick his feet up onto the console_. Slater decides he isn’t welcome anymore.

“Oh, look, we’re already approaching the atmosphere. I have things to do.” He plasters on a smile. “You should let the others know. Sometimes entry gets sort of bumpy.”

For a minute, it seems like Alex is going to call Slater on his bullshit, but he relents, sitting up and heading out of the cockpit without a word, much to Slater’s relief.

Slater navigates through the atmosphere, which is _not_ a bumpy ride, thank you very much, and gently sets he shuttle down on the landing pad designated for them.

“That wasn’t bumpy at all,” Alex says when Slater steps into the passenger area.

“Looks like I’m at least alright at my job,” Slater replies with a shrug.

“Are you really _the_ Slater Koekkoek?” Otto asks, like he’s someone famous or something.

Well, maybe he is a little, but still.

“You think there’s more than one Slater Koekkoek?” Slater asks with a smirk.

“It’s just that I heard you’re more of a, I don’t know. A showoff, I guess.” Otto’s eyes widen and he snaps his mouth shut.

He looks embarrassed and Slater debates saying something nice to let him off, but he isn’t feeling particularly charitable at the moment. “Maybe I won’t let you down next time,” he says before turning to Alex. “What do I have to do while you’re meeting with the other diplomat?”

“Nothing besides stand there and be quiet.”

“I can do that,” Slater says with a nod as he hits the switch sequence to lower the ramp.

Braydon snorts and Slater doesn’t look at him at all.

He _doesn’t_.

Okay, maybe he does, but Braydon isn’t looking anyway, so it doesn't matter.

//

Slater’s been put in charge of carrying some ugly satchel full of papers. He’s trying to resist the urge to nose though it while he follows a couple of steps behind the group. He doesn't have anything real to do, Alex and company don’t actually need him here, but this species, the Biwask, aren’t very trusting and insisted on every member of the away team coming along to the meeting.

That’s what Alex told him, anyway. He still hasn’t read the manifest.

So, Slater is tagging along instead of staying on the shuttle like any other pilot on any other mission would get to do. And he’s watching Braydon walk in front of him, because Slater loves tormenting himself, apparently.

Braydon’s backside still looks great, which sucks. Is amazing. No, it totally sucks. Slater sighs and looks down to adjust the satchel, which is of course when everyone in front of him stops, and he bounces off of Braydon's backside like an asshole.

“Sorry,” he mutters, not looking up.

“Okay, look,” Alex starts, flipping his communicator closed, “I just received word that the Biwask diplomat fired his bodyguard this morning.”

“Why?” Alexey asks.

“He thought that the bodyguard was trying to poison him.” Alex waves the statement away. “It doesn’t matter, we all know this sort of thing happens a lot with the Biwask. The problem is the species of the new bodyguard.” Alex frowns. “They’re a Xoefiz.”

“Are you shitting me?” Alex sure as hell has his attention now. “They just _happened_ to hire them a couple of hours ago?”

“What does he mean?” Otto asks.

“Xoefiz and Oyterians are mortal enemies. Everyone knows that!” Slater narrows his eyes at Otto. “Or they _should_.”

“Not everyone knows everything about-”

“No, stop.” Slater puts up a hand without looking over at Braydon. The first thing Braydon says to him since they said that awkward good-bye after their last class together is not going to be telling him that he’s wrong. “First of all, his job is diplomacy.” Slater points at Otto. “This is _exactly_ the sort of thing that he should know. Second of all, we need to message the captain. There’s no way he’s going to say that we should still go through with this when--”

“I have full jurisdiction here, and we’re going in.” Alex cuts him off. Slater opens his mouth to object again, but Alex continues, “It took ages to iron out the details of this particular meeting. Who knows how long it would take to get the next one in place if we cancel at the last minute.”

“I don’t care about the meeting, we should--”

“Slater.” Slater’s breath catches and he closes his eyes. It isn’t fair that Braydon doesn’t want him, but can say his name like _that_. He takes a moment before he blinks over at Braydon.

“It will be okay. We won’t tell them that I’m half-Oyterian.”

“You think that they don’t know?”

“I think that the random bodyguard who was just hired this morning probably doesn’t know.” Braydon takes a step towards him and it takes everything Slater has to not step back. “This is what I trained for, what we’re all trained for. It will be fine.”

Slater knows that he doesn’t have an argument here, that _‘No, I don’t want him in this particular danger For Reasons.'_   isn’t really going to fly. It’s already obvious that he cares about Braydon too much.

“Yeah, okay,” Slater relents. “I’ll just stand in the back and be quiet like I’m supposed to. Sorry.”

“Great!” Alex sounds too excited and Slater wishes he had some sort of super power that would put something extra behind the glare he shoots at him. “We should head in there since this is settled. We don't want to be late.” Alex turns and heads for the door without waiting for an answer. His crew goes after him. Slater debates just heading back to the ship before he sighs and follows.

//

The meeting is boring. It’s just Alex and the Biwask diplomat talking quietly at a desk while Otto and Alexey mingle with the other escorts and Braydon just sort of looms. That actually works out pretty okay, since it makes it easier for Slater to stand off to the side and not say anything.

He’s tense as fuck the whole time, but he doesn’t speak a word.

Unrelated to the no-talking thing, he’s pretty sure the one bodyguard is staring at Braydon. They are trying to be all sly about it, but Slater can tell because he’s somewhat of an expert in that particular field. So, now he’s worried and anxious on top of tense.

Alex appears to be wrapping up his talk, so Slater takes it upon himself to make his way over to where Braydon is standing. He’s too far away and Slater doesn't like that. He _knows_ that there is something is wrong with this whole situation, whether anyone else wants to think so, he can _feel_ it, and it’s--

The Xoefiz is pulling out a blaster, but no one seems to notice besides Slater. The only thing running through his mind as he runs the last two feet or so is how shitty a life without Braydon would be and how he wouldn’t want to live it. Slater steps in front of Braydon as they pull the trigger.

‘ _Holy shit, that_ hurts,’ is the last thought that Slater has.

//

“Ow, _fuck_ ,” Slater groans when he comes to. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he’ll get to that in a minute...right after he can breathe through this stabbing pain in his side.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re on the _Bolt_?” Braydon’s voice breaks right through his cloudiness, because of course it does.

“Is now really the time for this?” Slater grits out.

“Well, you aren’t going anywhere, and I’m not going anywhere, so.”

Slater finally drags his eyes open to find that he’s looking right into Braydon’s. He’s laying on his side and Braydon is right across from him, mirroring his position, even.

This is also like one of his dreams, but that one was without pain and a tiny, lumpy-ass medbay bed. Which, come to think of it, “How are you this close right now?”

“I pushed one of the other beds over,” Braydon replies.

“Ah.” Slater starts to reach for his hair before grimacing at the action and letting his hand drop.

“Careful. They healed your cracked ribs, but you’re still pretty bruised up.”

“Tell me what happened?” Slater asks, making himself maintain eye contact.

“The Biwask government had them arrested as a traitor.” Braydon gives a half smile. “Turns out it was the Xoefiz who was poisoning the diplomat, and all just for a chance to get a shot at me. They didn’t know that only stun blasters are issued for diplomatic meetings.”

“I didn’t know either,” Slater shuffles around trying to find a more comfortable way to lay. Braydon places a hand on his, and honestly, that will do. “But all I could think was that I couldn’t watch you get shot.”

“The Oyterian part of me has a genetic resistance to blasters. You know that.”

“Yeah, but what if they hit the human part of you?” Slater asks. It earns him a little huff of a laugh, and Slater will take it. But he’s just realized something. “What are you doing here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” Braydon asks, his face scrunched up in...whatever. Slater doesn’t feel like parsing it.

“Don’t you have things to do? Duties?”

“I’m using some personal time.”

“Why would you use your personal time to lay here and look at me?” Slater isn’t upset to see him. If he’s honest with himself (He tries to be. Usually.), there’s no one he’d rather be looking at right now. But what reason could Braydon have to be here beyond guilt? It isn’t like he made Slater do the stupid thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re on the _Bolt_?”

“You already asked that, and no fair answering my question with another question.” Slater frowns.

“You didn't answer me. Also, you did it first,” Braydon responds. And, shit. He did.

“I was going to tell you,” Slater sighs. “But I needed some time.”

“Time for what?” Braydon presses.

“I had to, um. Get over it all.”

“All?”

So Braydon’s going to make him spell it out. Fine.

“The way it felt when I thought that you, that I.” Slater, sighs, shifting his eyes downward. This isn’t something he can say and look Braydon in the face while he does it. “In the moment when you touched my face it all felt so real, like you cared about me the same I care about you, and I was something that you...you needed. But you don’t. You don’t even  _want_ me." Slater's voices catches, but he takes a breath and forces himself to continue, "And my heart aches when I see you, because seeing you is a reminder that you never will.”

He looks back up to see Braydon opening his mouth, so he hurries to add, “No, I don’t blame you! I’m a lot, I know, and I’m...I know that I'm not half as good as I pretend to be, that being with me would probably be...” Slater shakes his head. “The problem is on my end, I was projecting my feelings onto you and I know that. I just have to, you know. I'll get over it. I’m sorry.”

Braydon looks at him for a minute (that honestly feels like at least an hour and a half, what the actual fuck) before leaning in and pressing his lips to Slater's.

Slater’s first instinct is to melt into the kiss and deepen it, but then his brain screams ‘ _especially not you_ ’ at him, so he pulls back abruptly, hissing through his teeth when his ribs burn.

“It sends mixed signals when you kiss someone you especially don’t want.” He’s fighting to keep his voice even, and he thinks that he manages it this time. Barely. “So, like, thanks for the thank-you, or whatever, but please don't feel obligated.” Slater rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling.

“Slater.”

“Stop that.” His voice breaks, even worse than before, but he’s going to get through this. He has to. He tips his face back towards Braydon. “You can't keep saying my name in that tone just because you know that it affects me. It isn’t fair.”

“You know what else isn’t fair? The way that everything that you do affects me. How you’re funny and smart, kind and thoughtful, nothing like your reputation.” Braydon reaches out, threads their fingers together. “It isn’t fair that you came and wedged yourself into my perfectly ordered life, that you made me fall in love with you without asking my permission.”

Slater swears that he stops breathing for a second. “But you said--”

“I know.” Braydon’s free hand come up and cups Slater’s face. Jesus, it’s still the best feeling. “I thought that I shouldn’t, because...well, a lot of dumb reasons. I spent half of the year talking myself out of every reason I could think of to say something about my feelings, talking myself out of wanting to have relationship with you every single time you worked your way back under my skin. And then you had to go and have this entire list of all the ways that we could make it work, and I was.” Braydon pauses, takes a deep breath. “For the first time in my life, something scared me.”

“What?”

“I thought that you’d get to your assignment, go somewhere else, and then realize how much better you could do than me.”

“But I love you too,” Slater says, and he swears that he can actually see Braydon relax at his words.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Braydon gently tugs Slater back towards him, being so careful and gentle with his ribs. “I’m going to kiss you again now, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

It’s a damn good kiss, if Slater says so himself.

(He does.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Falling in love? Totally a 301 class.


End file.
